


About Time

by TattooedNurse



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-29 22:50:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17212334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TattooedNurse/pseuds/TattooedNurse
Summary: You wake up in Dean's bed... naked. The last thing you remember is dying.





	About Time

**Author's Note:**

> This was a lot of fun to write. I'm happy I was able to finish it and get it posted before I start me work week tonight. 
> 
> This was written for Diinofayce's (http://diinofayce.tumblr.com/) 500 Follower Challenge. 
> 
> Prompt: "Oh, please, point your gun at me if it helps you relax.”

Waking up was strange. It felt as though you were out of practice with it. Not to mention you couldn’t remember falling asleep. You rolled over, disoriented but not afraid. Yet. You were in a bed, the sheets soft against your bare skin… wait. No clothes? Hmm… _okay_. You cracked your eyes, looking around the dim room. You knew this room. You sat up quickly, bracing as the movement made your head spin. Fuck. You tried to remember how you got into Dean’s room… naked. Your last memories were of… shit. You died. How were you here? Last you remembered, you were in… what you assumed was heaven from the lack of suffering. Shifting toward the edge of the bed you wondered how long you had been gone and, of course, the more pressing question – how were you back? Why?

 

Stumbling, you stood, your legs shaking. Looking yourself over, you paused. Your body looked different. No scars or tattoos. You looked for a handprint, remembering the one Dean had on his return from hell. There were none that you could see. Hmm. You looked over to Dean’s desk and saw what you were hoping for. Taking the thin marker, you drew a quick anti-possession mark on your arm. If nothing else, you needed to have some temporary protection. Just in case.

 

That finished you set about looking for some clothes. There was a henley shirt draped over the back of the chair and you shrugged it on, relieved when it hit you mid-thigh. You smiled as the scent surrounded you. Dean. You felt yourself relax a bit, comforted that his smell still had that effect on you. Sighing, you started looking for bottoms. You knew your hips would make it impossible for you to wear his normal pants, but maybe he had something baggy with a drawstring? Searching his dresser, you grinned as you pulled a pair of cotton pajama pants that were thin with wear, from a drawer. Stepping into them, you gave a few small jumps and jiggles to get them over your hips, pleased when you managed to get them on. They were snug around your hips, of course, but comfortable otherwise. At least the length of the shirt would hide how they clung to your hips and ass.

 

Dressed, but barefoot, you made your way out of Dean’s room. First, you headed to what had been your room, disappointed but unsurprised to find it empty, all of your things gone. The quiet of the room seemed to make the growling of your stomach even more exaggerated. Your lips quirked, and you decided your next stop should be the kitchen. You made your way there, listening for any indication that you weren’t alone. Hearing nothing, you returned your focus to the search for food.

 

After raiding the kitchen, you settled at the table with a mixing bowl of cereal, a huge sandwich, some leftover pizza, and the biggest glass you could find filled with water. You ate quickly, not favoring one thing over another, until you were full and only scraps of your feast were left. You sat back, stretching as you groaned. So full. You stood and cleared the table, bringing everything to the kitchen before refilling your water. You leaned against the counter, listening. The bunker was still quiet. When you hadn’t seen or heard anyone, you had figured that the boys were out, but all of a sudden you were feeling very alone.

 

“Hey Cas,” you spoke softly, hesitant to disturb the quiet. “I’m a bit confused as to what’s going on, and I could really use some company. Are you around?” You stood, waiting. After a few minutes without a response you return to the table. As your mind wandered, you remembered distracting the demon from Dean. Taunting it. You remembered the sharp pain of the knife… over and over. Dean’s screams and pleas. Sam exorcising the demon as Dean ran to you. Him asking why you had done something _so_ stupid as he tried to hold pressure to the wounds that were bleeding the worst. Really, you hadn’t even had to think about it. You remembered the fear on his face as he held you, assuring you you’d be okay. You remembered the cold. And you remembered your confession. Telling Dean that you had fallen in love with him. Telling him to take care of himself. You had faded away before he had a chance to respond. At least you thought you had. You couldn’t remember a response.

 

Realizing you were starting to feel stiff, and unsure of how long you had been lost in your thoughts, you stood. You stretched with a sigh, trying to decide if this body felt different than your old one. You assumed it had been burned when you died. Standard hunter’s funeral. Fucking creepy… it felt the same, but at the same time, not. The usual achiness wasn’t there. Your right knee didn’t twinge when you moved it. Not a complaint, certainly, but odd none the less. Looking around you decided to keep busy.

 

Figuring the boys would be home sooner or later, you went around and gathered the supplies you’d need for the various tests. Salt, holy water, silver, borax… you looked at the collection, trying to think of anything else you might need when you heard the door. Shit. Here goes nothing.

 

Dean was the first one to enter, starting down the stairs without noticing you. Sam was behind him, saying something about needing to find a book. Research. You smiled. Some things never changed. Dean froze at the bottom of the stairs, finally noticing you. Sam almost bumped into him, before following his gaze and seeing you and gawking.

 

“Hello boys,” you said, the soft smile making the words sweeter than you intended.

 

Dean didn’t hesitate, pulling his gun and aiming it at you as he slowly moved into the room. Sam followed suit, both of them stopping just a few steps from the stairs, leaving plenty of room between you.

 

You looked between them, trying to keep the amused expression off your face. You met Dean’s gaze. “ **Oh, please, point your gun at me if it helps you relax** ,” you chuckled, tilting your head to study him. “I missed you,” you added, watching Dean blink at the feeling behind the simple statement. But _fuck_ , you had _missed_ him. Both of them. You glanced at Sam. “Hey Sammy. Have you gotten taller? I didn’t think it was possible. You seem taller.”

 

“Who – what are you?!” Dean demanded, his aim unwavering despite the pain and confusion dancing across his face.

 

“How long was I gone? You can’t truly have forgotten me, right? That might break my heart.” you replied, sighing when he just glared at you. So much for trying to lighten the mood. You were careful to hold your body still as you nodded to the table in front of you. “Do whatever test you want, Dean. It’s me.”

 

             “You died. I saw you die,” Dean forced out, the pain in his voice making your heart clench. “You died in my fucking arms! We…” he swallowed, his eyes closing. He took a breath and forced himself to meet your gaze again. “We sent you off, hunters funereal… burned you.”

 

             “He’s right,” Sam added, watching you take a breath, your eyes widening to keep the tears from falling. “There’s no way you came back from that.”

 

             You lifted the knife you had given Dean for his birthday the first year you joined them. “I gave you this, you know it’s silver,” you said, lifting it to your arm before using it to make a small cut, just under your drawn-on anti-possession mark. “See, red blood, no reaction to silver.” You picked up the holy water.

 

             “We have no clue if you replaced that,” Dean said, his voice rough, nodding at the container in your hand.

 

             “Then get some out of Baby’s trunk,” you shrugged, setting it back on the table. “Salt and borax, too. And anything else you want.”

 

             Dean glanced at Sam, who nodded and moved to the stairs.

 

             “If… even if you are _you_ …” Dean hesitated. “How…”

 

             “I don’t know,” you said, meeting his eyes and feeling your tears finally start to overflow your eyes and run down your cheeks. You fought to keep your voice steady in spite of them. “I… I woke up here. In your room. Sorry to take your clothes without asking, I know it annoys you,” your lips quirked, remembering all the times you had ‘borrowed’ his clothes in the past. “I just needed something to wear,” you added as an afterthought.

 

             Dean’s lips twitched. “You mean to say you were in my bed, naked, without me? That’s just unfair,” he muttered before he seemed to realize what he said and clenched his jaw, scowling at you.

 

             “Unfair indeed,” you sighed your smile fading. “I remember dying. Being _so_ cold. Then nothing… just comfort. I think I was in heaven… or at least not hell. I was… content. Mostly. I… I think I felt… something missing,” you shook your head, not wanting to admit too much. “Then I woke here. No handprint, I checked. But as you can see, all my tattoos and scars were gone. I don’t even know the date… how long I was gone. I tried calling Cas. He didn’t answer. Then I just waited. I don’t have a phone anymore. My room is empty…”

 

             “I had to box everything up,” Sam said, coming down the stairs with the supplies. You had been so focused on Dean you hadn’t noticed him entering. “Dean was… obsessing. I had to clean it out. Pissed him off, but it beat him spending hours in there staring at the walls.”

 

             “Hey!” Dean growled, shooting Sam a look.

 

             Sam shrugged. “What, it’s true.” He opened the salt. “Sorry about this,” he said, tossing some at you.

 

             You smiled at him. “Not a problem, Sammy,” you said, giving him a small smile that he returned. The borax was next, then the holy water. You raised your eyebrows. “Satisfied? Anything else? I told you. I’m me,” you insisted, wiping your face on the sleeve of your borrowed shirt.

 

             Sam started to move toward you, a huge smile on his face, before Dean spoke. “Wait.” When he saw that Sam had stopped, he looked at you. “What was the last thing you said to me… do you remember?”

            

             You gave him a sad smile. “How could I forget? I told you I was in love with you,” you answered, your voice thick. Dean’s eyes closed, a pained expression on his face. You took a breath and continued. “That I had been in love with you since you hit on me during our first hunt. Although, honestly, I think it was as soon as I met you. I told you I was sorry I was leaving you. And… I told you to take care of yourself for me,” you finished, barely above a whisper.

 

             You glanced at Sam, whose eyes were wide as he looked between you and Dean, his mouth opening and closing, trying to find words. He turned to Dean. “You… you never told me that.”

 

             Dean lifted his chin slightly in confirmation, not taking his eyes off you. “Yeah, and how was I supposed to admit that I got the woman I… the woman who was in love with me killed, huh?”

 

             “Dean, it wasn’t your fault,” you said, your voice firm. Before you could continue, another voice spoke.

 

             “She’s right Dean,” Cas stated in his unfailingly factual way. “She chose to save you, she gave you no choice in the matter.”

 

             “Is that supposed to make it easier?” Dean asked, shaking his head and glancing at Cas. “What’s going on here, Cas?”

 

             “No, it is simply true. And she has been returned to you. I… after everything, I wanted you to have happiness. It isn’t something that is easily done. Actually, it is forbidden. But for this case, I was able to… we shall just say that an exception was made. She was unsettled. She longed for you, even in heaven. And you… your sorrow could be felt by all. This exception, it will not happen again, but you have her back and there will be no repercussions or debt.”

 

             Dean looked at Cas dumbfounded. You looked between them, trying to sort the questions in your head, before being pulled into a bearhug by Sam. You were so distracted you hadn’t realized he had moved. “I’m glad you’re back. I missed you. And Dean… well… I’m so happy that you’re back.”

 

             You hugged him back, tears – happy ones this time, running down your face and leaving a damp spot on his shirt. Then you heard Dean’s voice and froze.

 

             “Sam, that’s enough for now. Let me greet my girl. I’ve been waiting too long as it is. Way too fucking long.” Sam moved back chuckling, and you met Dean’s eyes. The emotion you saw there almost made your knees give out. Dean smiled at your expression. “Hey sweetheart,” he murmured, pulling you to him and wrapping his arms around you so tightly that it felt as though your entire bodies were touching. He nuzzled your neck, just under your ear. “I missed you so fucking much. Don’t _ever_ leave me again. Please. Promise me.”

 

             You swallowed your sob. “I… I promise,” you whimpered, taking a breath to try and steady your voice. “Never wanted to leave you, never will again. I fucking love you, Dean. So much. I’m here for as long as you’ll have me.”

 

             Dean’s arms spasmed around you at your words, his face nestling into you further before you felt him pull back. He met your eyes and his were shining. His hands rested on your jaw, tilting your face up to him slightly. “That means I get you forever then,” he smiled, touching his nose to yours and murmuring against your lips. “I love you, too. Always have. Never want to be without you.”

 

             You felt your breath catch at his words, and then his lips were on yours. You had dreamed of kissing Dean _so_ many times over the years. You always thought you had a pretty active imagination, but nothing prepared you for this. It was worlds better than anything you had imagined. You relaxed into him, kiss him back but letting him take the kiss wherever he wanted it to go, following his lead. You had no idea how much time had passed when he pulled back, his smile sweet as he looked into your eyes.

 

             “About damn time,” Sam said, and you could hear the grin in his voice.

 

             “I agree,” Cas replied. “And if you don’t need anything else…” Before anyone had a chance to respond he was gone.

 

             “Must say,” Dean said, his voice soft and his eyes not leaving yours. “They aren’t wrong. It’s about damn time.”

 

             “Yeah?” you breathed, smiling up at him as he gazed down at you.

 

             “Oh yeah,” he murmured, pulling you into another kiss.

 

Hell yes. You couldn’t help but agree. It was about fucking time.


End file.
